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is the listener any less overcome; for few, that are amenable to genuine, generous impulses, could resist a sympathetic throb or a kindred sigh, when passages of heroic valour or harrowing anguish were properly road to them. Ungracious as it may sound in the ears of censors, who are more passionate than impartial, I trust there are yet large classes of literary judges who would acquit me of all desire to indulge in carping criticism, when I say, as a matter of stern duty, that seldom do we meet with descriptions in subsequent writers --perhaps with the exception of Potana, the author of the Telugu Bhagavata-making any decided approach to the power and the pathos, pervading almost every page of those great masters. It looks as though those gifted votaries of the Muse carried away with them the magic, poetic charm, where with they conjured up life and fire or evoked sorrow's melting tribute, as occasions arose for the one or the other. The result has been that their successors were reduced to the position, so to speak, of literary sculptors, glorying in triumphs of word-symmetry, consisting mainly in their striving after aesthetic finish of Icarned diction or in the wealth of musical versification. A long, uninteresting interval ensued till the time of Sreenadha, who may be viewed in the light of the next great epoch-maker after the authors of the lunar cpic - though I am not prepared to say that there were not in that interval some stray, angelic touches, few
